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Sunday, May 26, 2024

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Sunday, May 26, 2024

Polar Complexities

By Willie Gordon Suting

I’ve never learned to love hatred
But fires rage
When the storm begins
A hatred for the ones I love
The ones I hold most dear
I am sometimes left to wonder
How mad violence
Makes sudden shifts
To dancing sexily to psychedelic rock
And binge masturbating to pornography
Endless crackpot jokes
Employing devices of wit, grandiosity
But like murdering myself
I revert to violence
Outbursts, slangs, insults
And loudness, sheer loudness!
Imagination like jazz
Grips me with certainty
That I will someday
Make it as a novelist
But my overflowing tears
On tragic tales
Of tragic circumstances
Inside books
Makes me long
For Monk
Oh Monk, my old friend
Old Monk
Only you understand me
Only you understand me.
This bipolar plight
Where I feel
Like a Miles Davis composition.
I wept and wept
Father started the car
And took
Me to the Inpatient gate
Inside the mental hospital
Bidding me goodbye
I entered the ward
And was put under sedation.

(The writer-poet is based in Shillong, Meghalaya. His writings have appeared in various publications.)

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